


A Good Lover

by Outlander_Geekery



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 04:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12004731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outlander_Geekery/pseuds/Outlander_Geekery
Summary: “Well…” I started, “What I meant was that if a man is a good lover, and pays attention, if it doesn't happen, there are … other ways.”Claire teaches Jamie how to pleasure a woman.





	A Good Lover

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by these two passages from Outlander:
> 
> “No, not every time,” I said, amused. “Only if the man is a good lover.”
> 
> “Oh.” His ears turned faintly pink. I was slightly alarmed to see the look of frank interest being replaced with one of growing determination. 
> 
> “Will you tell me what I should do next time?” he asked.
> 
> \-----
> 
> “Tell me some more.” The finger moved slowly downward. “I like to hear the Latin names for things; I never dreamed it would be so pleasant to make love to a physician.”
> 
> “That,” I said primly, “is an areola, and you know it, because I told you last week.”
> 
> “So ye did,” he murmured. “And there’s another one, fancy that.”
> 
> \-----
> 
> This is un-betaed so if you see any typos or glaring errors please don't hesitate to let me know and I'll edit them.

“Guuuhhh. A 'faireachdainn cho math...” 

His back hunched under my urging caresses while his heavy breath steamed my already heated neck. He jerked forward sharply once, twice, and then was still. I ran my hands soothingly up his arms and he shivered, huffing a small laugh in my ear.

“Too sensitive?” I asked, through a smile.

“A wee bit,” he said, “but it feels good.” I enjoyed the tender tone his voice took on after sex. It was in these post-coital moments I remembered just how young he was, and innocent, despite all he had seen and experienced in his 23 years.

He pushed himself back up on his hands to look at me. I saw a flicker of a question in his eyes before he subtly shook it away, leaned forward to kiss my forehead, and pulled himself from between my legs. My heated core still tingled and I wasn’t quite ready for the separation. I felt the familiar trickle left behind by his absence. 

He sprawled on his back, still breathing heavily. I turned my head to look at him and smiled. A small strip of sunlight made the hair on his chest glint, and dust dance in the air above him. It was the last day of our makeshift honeymoon. I felt a twinge of guilt at the thought that I was slightly sad our alone time was coming to end. I shouldn’t even be here -- much less married to this man, and longing to continue to fill our days with sex and sleep, only attending to the barest necessities of daily life.

He turned his head to catch my gaze and I saw the same questioning look in his eyes again. I pulled myself up on one arm so I could lean over him and touch his lips to mine. My kiss was still hungry. 

“Sassenach?” He asked once I broke the kiss and rested my head on his shoulder. 

“Hmmm?” 

“Did you? Uh… ye didna…”

Ah, there it was. The question. I stayed quiet to let him finish.

“Did ye get there? This time.” 

“No, not this time.” The reminder made me conscious of the feeling of need still present between my thighs. It wasn’t a feeling I was used to. Frank was a courteous lover and always made sure my pleasure came before his own. While Jamie was enthusiastic, and if I was being honest, excited me more than I cared to dwell on, he just didn’t have the experience with a woman’s body -- up until two nights ago he didn’t even realize orgasm was possible. 

“It didna happen last night either, no?” It wasn’t really a question. He knew the answer.

“No, it didn’t.” I looked up at him. “Sometimes it’s a little more difficult for me than other times, especially since we’ve been doing it quite a lot,” I blushed, “but it still feels good. I still enjoy it.” I laid my head back down on his shoulder and ran my fingers comfortingly across his downy chest.

“But,” he seemed incredulous, “It doesna’ hurt? When ye don’t finish?”

The thought struck me that if there was a female equivalent to blue balls, it was quite possible I was experiencing it now, and had last night until I’d fallen asleep.

“No,” I shook my head reassuringly. “It doesn’t hurt. You ache because fluid builds up and needs to be released. Women are different. It … fades.” Although I knew what I said was true, I couldn’t deny that I definitely ached.

“Mmphmm.” He was quiet again for a moment.

I snuggled him a little tighter and settled in for a nap, waiting to hear the tell-tale signs of his slumbered breathing.

“But,” his voice broke the silence, “Ye said that if the man was a good lover,” he paused, “I want it to happen every time.”

My heart skipped a beat at the raw honesty in his voice. Perhaps it was time for me to provide a little more instruction. He certainly seemed willing. “Well…” I started, “What I meant was that if a man is a good lover, and pays attention, if it doesn't happen, there are … other ways.”

At this Jamie’s body language shifted from post-coital lethargy to eager anticipation. He pushed up on his side, effectively rolling my cushioned head off of his shoulder and back onto the pillow next to us.

“Will ye show me?” he asked.

I smiled in answer and pulled his head down for another kiss. My tongue invaded his mouth and he groaned. Little lightning bolts of electricity flittered down my body to where I needed the most attention. 

I took his hand and lightly kissed each of his long fingers before taking the middle one into my mouth and sucking gently down to his knuckle. His eyes narrowed as a new flush of arousal clouded them. I momentarily expected him to forget any exploration, spread my legs, and drive home again. He continued to stare at me, his breathing labored with restraint. I kissed him and guided his hand down between my legs. He cupped and rubbed me up and down, grazing the springy curls. He pulled back from our kiss as one finger gently parted my folds to touch the wet center.

“Should I be gentle?” he asked.

“It depends. Gentle if the woman isn’t aroused yet. You can be firmer as she gets close.”

“No women, Claire. I only want to ken you. Just my wife.” 

I hadn’t meant to phrase it that way aloud. I was teaching Jamie how to love a woman. How to pleasure not only me, but whoever came next after I was gone. But as far as Jamie was concerned, he was a married man -- now and forever.

I had the sudden urge to pull away and sit up. It wasn’t fair to let him become any more attached to us. And to lay myself bare in front of him blurred the lines even more for me, as well. But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t pull away.

He furrowed his brow. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” I responded, shaking my head.

After a moment, he asked again, “Gentle or firm?”

“I’m still aroused … a firmer touch is good.” 

He ran his finger from my opening up to my clitoris, pausing there to tour both sides of the soft hood before sliding back down. This time when he reached the entrance, he slipped inside.

I let out a sigh.

“It’s so wet.” he said, resting his forehead against mine.

“Some of it is me. Some of it is you.” I cupped the side of his face to pull him back and gently kiss his lips.

He had a far off look in his eyes, as if he was trying to see what his fingers felt. He gently moved in and out, more in exploration than trying to elicit pleasure, though it felt heavenly.

“When you’re inside me,” I started, “You rub against that spot there, where your fingertip is right now.”

“Here?” he teased, wiggling his finger with purpose now.

“Yeesss.” 

“Does it have a name?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t know exactly, I don’t think that actual spot has a name, but your finger is inside my vagina.” I said with a slight giggle.

“Vagina.” he repeated. “That’s a much nicer name than I’ve heard men call it.”

“And what have you heard?” I asked, curious.

“Cunt, mostly.” he said with a sheepish smile. “Angus says gash. Quim, furrow … and slit. Probably a few others I canna remember.”

“Lovely.” I replied. I resisted the idea to teach Jamie and few new, modern terms since I was eager to get back to the matter at hand. There was always tomorrow.

I reached down to grasp his wrist and urged him a little deeper. Without formal instruction, I instead firmly began to rub the pads of my fingers against the back of his hand to mimic the motion I craved. A quick study, he set about to move in a delicious slow rhythm.

“That feel good, Sassenach?”

“You have no idea…”

“Oh aye, I think I do.” he leaned down and captured my lips with his own while he continued. 

I found it harder to stay still and started to gently thrust my hips downward on each of his upward strokes.

“I like it when ye start to squirm. Like it feels so good ye can’t help it.” His voice was deep and I could feel the vibrations against my cheek.

His movements and words were becoming an overwhelming combination. I gripped at his neck, trying to hold on to something.

He abruptly stopped and pulled his finger out. “But no yet. Show me the other spots.”

“What?” I asked breathlessly.

He grinned, proud of himself and gently traced my entrance. “What’s this called?”

Taking a deep inhale and exhale to steady my breathing, I again guided his hand. “Those are the labia minora,” I moved him to the pads of my outer lips and said, “These are the labia majora.”

“So furry and soft.” he said as he again cupped the entire area in his large hand. He buried his head in my neck and planted gentle kisses along my collarbone. His thumb grazed my--

“What is this, Sassenach?” he asked as he strummed the little bundle of flesh.

“That is the clitoris.” I said, “It’s the most sensitive part. It likes a lot of attention.”

“Oh…” he replied. “Does it feel good if I rub it?” 

“Yes, just like that… small circles… if you do it long enough I’ll almost always orgasm... um, climax.” What had been a tingle was now a burn spreading from where his fingers touched my sensitive skin to deep in my womb.

Determined, he continued to rub and lowered his mouth to my nipple to tease it with his tongue. I started to squirm again and gripped his arm. “It feels harder now … like your nipples get in my mouth.”

“Yes… oh God, Jamie… it feels good.”

He stopped again for a second and I almost cried out in protest before I realized he was only adjusting to slide two fingers back inside me while his thumb took over the exquisite teasing of the little ball of nerves. My God, this man was a fast learner.

He was erect again and I grasped him with both hands, one holding on to his shaft and the other cupping his weighty testicles. 

“Don’t stop… don’t stop… please…” I begged.

His slick fingers were everywhere at once and I felt the burning ache in my pelvis build and expand until I was no longer aware of anything except the buzzing between my legs, and his heat in my palms. The ache finally burst into a flame that radiated throughout my body as I convulsed. 

“Mo chaileagan brèagha...” Jamie stared into my eyes. His own looked like they wanted to say more than his voice would let him. I felt my eyes sting with a similar restraint. 

Instead he wordlessly shifted himself between my legs and entered me in one long push. An aftershock gripped him tightly and he moaned.

“Ye feel so good … so hot and swollen … this is heaven.” He swiftly worked himself to orgasm and once again collapsed against me. 

Feeling finally sated I excused myself to use the privy and then settled back onto the bed. 

Jamie pulled me into his arms and spooned himself around me. “Every time, Sassenach. I want to be a good lover to ye every time.”

“You are a very good lover, James Fraser, but not just because you gave me pleasure.”

“No?”

“No, because you cared whether or not I experienced pleasure.”

“Mmphmm,” he said into my hair, “every time.”


End file.
